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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27406861">Deliverance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooky500/pseuds/kooky500'>kooky500</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kooky's Kinktober/Whumptober 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Michael, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cordelia is not having a good time right now, F/M, Kissing, Michael also doesn't know how to express that love, Michael loves Cordelia, Minor Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode, Non-Consensual Touching, Not A Fix-It, One-Sided Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Whumptober 2020, but like not sexual touching, if that makes sense?, sorta - Freeform, spoiler: this is not the right way, that's for sure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:49:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27406861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooky500/pseuds/kooky500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After she stabbed herself, intending to die, Cordelia wakes up. She desperately wishes she hadn't.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Originally written for Whumptober Day 4: Caged</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode/Michael Langdon, vaguely implied Cordelia/Misty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kooky's Kinktober/Whumptober 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952446</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Deliverance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I originally intended to get this posted before October was actually over, but mental health issues and coursework sorta threw that plan out of the water. So anyways, take this late, whumptober fic anyways!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cordelia’s eyes flew open in a panic, her breath returning to her in a ragged gasp. <em>I’m alive,</em> she thought. But no, that wasn’t right. She <em>shouldn’t</em> be alive. She should be dead, after she-</p>
<p>“Finally, back with the land of the living, are we?”</p>
<p>At the sound of <em>that</em> voice, Cordelia tensed, not even turning to look at the room’s other occupant, her throat tightening as a well of grief threatened to overtake her. They lost, then, because if <em>he</em> was here, and in one piece, that meant her girls more than likely weren’t. </p>
<p>“What do you want?” She whispered, hating the shake in her voice. She pushed herself up into a sitting position on the bed beneath her (where had that come from?), deliberately keeping her gaze on the thin sheet around her hips than the man before her.</p>
<p>Michael chuckled lowly. “Oh, I want a lot of things, but we’ll get to that,” He said, the words sounding like a dark promise. “For now, I’m sure you probably have a lot of questions you want to ask. Like why you’re still alive.”</p>
<p>Cordelia’s jaw tightened, knowing if she wanted answers, he was going to make her voice the question herself. The last thing she desired was having to talk to him, but right now, she didn’t see much of an alternative. She grit her teeth.</p>
<p>“Why am I-“</p>
<p>“Ah-ah-ah, it’s not polite to speak to someone without looking at them,” Michael interrupted. “Or did they not teach you manners at that academy of yours?”</p>
<p>Begrudgingly, the woman lifted her head. Michael grinned at her from where he sat in an armchair on the other side of the room. Cordelia’s eyes narrowed, and she took a deep breath, forcing herself to remember that he was her only source of answers at the moment.</p>
<p>“Why am I here?” She questioned tightly. “I killed myself, I <em>remember</em> dying. I <em>should</em> be dead, but I-“ She closed her eyes briefly, taking a breath to calm herself. “But I’m not,” She said, her gaze fixing on the man once more. “Why is that? What did you do?”</p>
<p>Michael laughed. “Sorry, I just- do you really think you killed yourself? With one little stab wound? Did you really think it would be that easy?” He laughed again, shaking his head. “We both know it takes more than that to kill the Supreme. Besides, even if you had succeeded, it wouldn’t have stuck.”</p>
<p>The woman’s eyes narrowed further, trying to judge if he was mocking her or not. Yes, she knew there were a multitude of ways to bring someone back from the dead, even for someone who <em>wasn’t</em> the antichrist. But why? Ever since she’d killed his precious Ms. Mead, Michael had loathed her, that much Cordelia knew for a fact. So why would he have wanted to bring her back in the first place? Wasn’t he the one who wanted her dead in the first place?</p>
<p>“I hate you,” Cordelia ground out between clenched teeth, somehow finding it surprisingly hard to put any venom at all into her voice anymore. Did she hate Michael? Once, the answer undoubtedly would have been yes. Now though, she was just so tired. She wasn’t certain if she hated anything at this point. She just wanted it all to be over, and now it seemed she couldn’t even have that much. “Just tell me why I’m here.”</p>
<p>Michael smiled at her, not a trace of kindness in the motion. Cordelia resisted the urge to flinch when he stood, striding towards her.</p>
<p>“Now, that <em>is</em> an interesting question. Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself the same thing?” Michael stepped forward, a hand reaching out to grip the woman’s chin, turning her to face him. He was close enough that Cordelia could feel strands of his honey-colored hair, caress her face when he tilted his head to study her. Every single waking moment of his life, Michael had felt a <em>pull.</em> An urging, dragging him towards some goal or another. It never stopped; even when he slept, he could still feel it. Except when he was with <em>her.</em> “What is it about you?” He muttered. “Why is it always <em>you? </em>You know, at first, I thought it was just hatred, maybe even power, but it’s not, is it? It’s something more.”</p>
<p>Cordelia yanked her head out of his grasp, turning away.</p>
<p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>With a dark chuckle, Michael reached out, fisting a handful of blonde hair and wrenching the woman’s head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. He leaned in close, near close enough to touch her face. Cordelia didn’t even dare to breathe, her heart rabbiting away in her chest.</p>
<p>“It’s not nice to lie, Cordelia,” The words were whispered against the line of her jaw. Michael’s dark gaze never once left from where it dug into her own, prying her apart. “You feel it too, don’t you? The pull between us.”</p>
<p>A shudder ran down the woman’s spine at the words, and it took everything in her to remember exactly who the man before her <em>was,</em> what he’d done. She kept silent, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten a response from her, and because she didn’t entirely trust herself to speak just yet.</p>
<p>Abruptly, the man released her, stepping back. His lips curled into a secretive smirk. “See, I recently stumbled across some rather interesting information concerning the Supreme and the Alpha.”</p>
<p>Cordelia stiffened, her blood turning to ice in her veins. <em>He knows,</em> she thought, the realization washing over her like a bucket of ice water. She swallowed around the growing lump in her throat.</p>
<p>“The Prophecy,” She surmised, closing her eyes. She knew it well, having been made to memorize it from near the moment she was born. The Alpha and the Supreme – equal in all things. As similar to one another as they were different. Legend said that they were once the same being, who had been split into two in punishment for having dared to challenge the gods themselves. Two halves of the same whole. Soulmates in the very sense of the word. </p>
<p>The Alpha was thought to be a myth by most, and Cordelia could admittedly see why some might think that. There had been many Supremes throughout history, after all, but there was only ever one Alpha. It was said that when he appeared, the Alpha and the Supreme would be one yet again and unleash a calamity unlike any other upon the world. </p>
<p>Of course, the Prophecy also said that when either the Alpha or the Supreme died, the other would follow. Which was precisely why Cordelia had been trying to put the very idea that Michael might be the Alpha out of her mind ever since it was posited to her. Because if it was true, if Michael really <em>was</em> the Alpha, then that meant that Cordelia could have stopped all of this death and destruction before any of it happened in the first place, and that- that was a possibility she wasn’t ready to consider. She wasn’t confident she could stand to live with herself if she did.</p>
<p>The woman shook her head.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter. You’re the antichrist, not the Alpha.” </p>
<p>“Who says I can’t be both?”</p>
<p>A wave of self-loathing and disgust came over Cordelia so quickly that she nearly heaved right then and there. </p>
<p>It couldn’t be true. She didn’t want it to be true. Because if it was, if Michael truly wasn’t lying, then she was just as responsible for everything that he’d done for having failed to stop him. Bile rose in the back of her throat. </p>
<p>“Mallory,” She spoke, thinking of the woman who had been next-in-line to take her place as Supreme, desperate to change the subject. If nothing else, she was thankful that if anyone were to be subject to this fate, it would be her, rather than Mallory. Poor, sweet, Mallory – she didn’t deserve this. <em>Not like I do.</em> “What did you do to Mallory?”</p>
<p>“I killed her,” Michael answered easily. “Snapped her neck like a toothpick, right before I ate her heart.”</p>
<p>“No-“ Cordelia choked on a horrified sob, her stomach twisting at the words. She could still remember the carefree smile on the girl’s face when Zoe had first shown her the girl’s talents. </p>
<p><em>“Her name’s Mallory.”</em> </p>
<p><em>Mallory, </em>Cordelia had thought, wondering what such a sweet girl had done to deserve such an unfortunate name. Now she was dead, and it was all Cordelia’s fault. <em>If only I’d never dragged her into this mess.</em> Maybe then the girl would still be alive. Maybe none of this would-</p>
<p>Tears spilled down the woman’s cheeks before she could stop them. </p>
<p> “You weren’t really thinking of making <em>her</em> the next Supreme, were you?” Michael sneered. “Why, because she passed a few tests? Pathetic thing like her would have been dead within the week. She wasn’t worthy of being the Supreme, and you know it.”</p>
<p>Weakly, Cordelia shook her head.</p>
<p>“You’re wrong.” <em>She was the most deserving out of all of us. </em>“What about the others? Am I to assume you killed them as well?”</p>
<p>“Safe and unharmed – for now,” The man smirked at her. “See? I can be merciful. I’ve placed them under identity spells, far from here, of course. But so long as you’re good, I promise not to harm a single hair on their heads. Play nice, and I might even be persuaded to let you visit them, excluding that little toe-haired favorite of yours,” He reached out, hooking a hand under her chin, turning her to face him once more. “I don’t share; you’d do well to remember that.”</p>
<p>Cordelia slumped forward, her heart sinking through the floor. It really was over then. They’d lost. If Myrtle were here, she’d probably be scolding her right now, chastising Cordelia for giving up just like that. </p>
<p>But they’d been fighting for so long, long enough that a bone-deep weariness had settled over the witch. How many times had she lost her girls by now, had them cruelly ripped away from her one by one? She lost count long ago. Increasingly, where she’d expected grief and sorrow, she was met only with a strange numbness, one that seemed to stretch and stretch until it encompassed all that she was. Until she simply could not bring herself to care anymore. </p>
<p>Sometimes she’d lay awake at night, bathed in the choking fear that soon she wouldn’t care about anything at all.</p>
<p>She was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing, tired of sacrificing everything she had only to have it all be for naught. <em>Zoe, Madison, Myrtle, Queenie… Misty. I’m sorry.</em></p>
<p>Cordelia took a deep, shuddering breath before returning Michael’s gaze.</p>
<p>“What do you want from me?” She begged in a whisper. <em>Please, just tell me. </em></p>
<p> “Everything,” Michael hissed before leaning forward to capture the woman’s lips in a cold mockery of a kiss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>❤ steel-and-silver@tumblr.com ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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